


Nights Before

by egare



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Gen, If y'all are starting to feel like you've read some of these before I had five ff.net accounts, and I'm finally transferring them all to one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 19:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egare/pseuds/egare
Summary: Stars shone in the dark sky as he looked up, admiring the nighttime peace that would not last forever.





	Nights Before

**He found himself staring out of his window, as the night grew darker and darker.** It would be soon, he knew that much. He would fulfill the prophecy in a matter of days. He was born into it, a wise wizard told him long ago. No, that wasn't right. It wasn't long ago, not really, others had lived through much longer. They were just a few years, in comparison to others' lives. But those few years dragged him through the dirt and tested him.

Yet he knew, he had to do this. He had fought for the majority of his life for this, it was required that he continued.

Stars shone in the dark sky as he looked up, admiring the nighttime peace that would not last forever. It was not that he wanted to do it this way, but he had to complete the prophecy. They were killing people every day. A twisted part of his mind would say he should enjoy doing this, that it would be easier without his prophetic opponent in the way of peace. It should frighten him that that twisted part was much larger than he wanted it to be. But where empathy and kindness should be, there was a void. It was decidedly inhuman, but he didn't have the emotions to care anymore.

He just wanted this to be over.

He wanted to win. He wanted peace, a world of unity. Not constant battle, with blood being spilled every day. Although he was numb to the screams and pleas of those that died, he couldn't help the grimace in his alone time when he thought of it too much. All those he couldn't save from joining the wrong side and fighting for it. All those that died thinking what they were doing was right.

The grandfather clock started to chime, _one, two, three,_ as he turned away from the window.

_Four, five, six._

He left the room, heading down the hall. It was cold and empty at this time of night.

_Seven, eight, nine._

He appeared in the archway entrance to the dining room, people standing up to greet him.

_Ten, eleven._

Those that stood tilted their heads toward him, murmuring. "Good evening, my Lord."

_Twelve_.

Lord Voldemort sat down at the head of the table, staring into the eyes of those that would help bring about the end of war.


End file.
